The Unforgotten
by B.A. Gemar
Summary: The sequel to Cold Hands, by popular demand! She was a pet. That much was very clear to her. He was like one of those eccentric pet owners, and she was his beloved dog. He trained her, and if she knew what was good for her, she would obey. Adjusting to the life of an alien hunter was going to be difficult, especially since others of his kind aren't so keen about his new 'pet.'
1. Death Warmed Over

Instinct. What is it that allows an animal to know when it is being hunted or not? In the heat of Africa, what is it that causes hundreds of zebras to walk by a pride of lions sunning themselves in the light, and not a single one of them flinches, but when the lioness is on the prowl, unseen, that is when they know, and get nervous?

In the heat of the jungle, spear in hand, barely clothed, hidden in alien ferns, she felt it. Instinct prickled at the back of her neck, poured fire in her blood, played her heart like a drum, heightened her senses and drew her muscles so tight that they spasmed.

Hannah was being hunted.

For almost an hour she had traversed the dense jungle, parted ferns with the spear in her hand and stepped through. She had no destination, but she wanted on badly. She would have settled even for at least a direction, but through the thick canopy that was no shelter against the heat, she couldn't see the sun. She just knew that it was hot, and stiflingly humid.

The air here was breathable, but barely so. Even if the adrenaline wasn't ravaging her body, she'd still be taking quick short breaths of the scalding, heavy air. Her eyes darted back and forth as she held her spear close, and took a step forward from her crouched position. She was careful, with every step, not to snap anything underfoot. This meant that she crawled forward at a snail's pace, looking left, then right, then left again ten times before taking another step.

It was like the most dangerous game of hide and seek she had ever played, and there was no 'safe zone' that she could run to. It was a game she didn't know all the rules to, and couldn't win. She swallowed again, trying to control her breathing, feeling her sweat roll off of her skin by the pint. She had to have lost fifty pounds by now.

The animals around her were active, though she never really saw any. Just the rustling of a bush, the flick of a fern as some small creature lost its nerve and darted away from her. Calls echoed through the trees, sometimes answered, and insects buzzed. Nothing dangerous so far; no sort of growling or snarling indicated the presence of a predator.

She was sore. Tightened muscles threatened to cramp if she didn't stand up and stretch them out, but that would expose her, put her in immediate danger. She wiped her hand across her brow and bent down to her hands and knees. The spear in her hand retracted with a loud _snikt_ and she flinched, froze, and listened. When nothing changed, she planted the shortened spear deep into the moist earth and put her ear to it. She listened to the movements on the surface, hearing small thuds, but no large ones.

Letting out her breath and licking her lips, tasting salt. She pulled the spear out of the ground, stretched her aching muscles, then crouched again and moved forward. She wanted this to be over, to sit down and give up, she was tired, sore, hungry, thirsty, hell until recently she had been dead. But she knew rest wasn't an option. Getting caught napping meant death. A bad move meant death. Carry on, keep alert, movement was life.

Something moved near her and she stopped, dropping down to one knee and re-extending the spear in her hand, pointed at an angle upwards with the back grounded in the soil. The ferns ahead of her rustled, something was coming her way. She strained her eyes, trying to focus on the area surrounding the ferns rather than the ferns themselves, looking for a distortion of light, the warping of the colors of the jungles.

Out of the fern burst a small pack of lizards, four long two-toed legs carrying them quickly forward, six back spines that were red in color swayed back and forth almost like wings. Several small snake-like heads on long necks were stretched forward, only to rear back as the caught Hannah's scent. The pack leader, gave out a cry and turned its herd away, heading to somewhere on Hannah's left. The entire pack cried out as well, wails of _eek eek_ drowned out all other noise. There had to have been fifty individuals, some spotted, some striped, ranging in color from green to yellow with long whip-like tails trailing behind them. When they all passed, Hannah unfroze and leaned forward, able to see a clearly defined trail of crushed bush.

She didn't go in the direction they came from. Something spooked them.

Turning to her right, Hannah continued forward, sweating, heaving, hating life. She stopped when she heard a noise, nothing made by a living creature, but a new sound. She soon recognized it as water, and with wide eyes she moved forward, almost throwing caution to the wind. She soon came upon a small brook that cut a path through the soft dirt, exposing bright red rocks against the black earth. She dropped to her knees by the brook and dipped her hand in the water. It felt cool and she sighed in relief. She knew better than to drink it, but instead splashed the water over her body, cooling herself down and holding in a laugh.

Dipping her hand down again she brought a small amount to her nose and inhaled the scent for anything immediately odd. Then she froze when she heard a noise. She dropped the water in her hand and snatched up her spear again. Ears rang as she strained to listen, holding her breath, spear pointing in the direction of the possibly imaginary sound as she crouched low and slowly moved back to the shelter of the ferns and trees. Her body instantly protested her cessation of its necessary function and her chest began to burn. She went back to quick short breaths that were deafening in the silence of the jungle.

Wait. Shit! She should have noticed sooner, but too late did she realize that the animals around her had gone quiet. The game was over, she knew it, no point in running. She saw the jungle to her left move a split second before a spear came down on her. She yelled in surprise, stumbling back from the force of the blow as the two metal weapons came into contact. The sound rang through the trees and she fell to one knee, sinking into the soft earth before standing and regaining her footing.

She was immediately on the defensive, holding the spear in a blocking position as her ghostly aggressor's weapon came down on her again and again, sending shocks of pain up her arms. Her eyes darted from her attacker to the trees and back again as she sought out any foliage that she could use to help defend herself. She waited for an opening, a chance to counter-strike and duck into the trees. It was never presented.

She persisted, gritting her teeth as strike after strike tore at her muscles, sending her downward or to the side to try to open her for a direct attack. Hers was an exercise in futility, but she didn't have the option for less. Her arms were becoming numb, the only reason she was still able to hold the weapon was that her fingers were cramped around the shaft. Finally she saw a chance, taking a step back and dodging around a tree, putting the five-foot wide behemoth between the two of them and jumped back to try to buy her some time to think.

It didn't help as the invisible attacker danced easily around it with the grace of a jungle cat, the distorted image toying with her vision as it threatened to be lost among the massive amounts of shifting colors and shadows of the forest. She gnashed her teeth and chocked back cries of anguish as another strike came at her and she blocked.

Further and further back he pushed her, step by step she lost ground. Then her heel contacted something hard and smooth. She slipped, lost her footing, and almost fell. It was an opportunity the ghost did not pass up. A hard smack hit the side of her head and sent her tumbling to the ground. Her ear rang with pain as she struggled up and staggered, only to have her un protected ribs smacked next. She stumbled back, holding her ribs, holding the spear in just one hand as the ghost's massive form manifested in front of her too quickly for her to react. The broad length of the spear was shoved against her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs and sending her back against a tree.

A lucky break, her balance was caught instantly and she spun away as the spear hit the bark of the tree and created an indent. The impact area turned a dark color as if the tree had instantly bruised, but it did not really slow down the apparition. Hannah had the spear back in both hands, held diagonally in a defensive position, coughing and gasping shakily.

A harsh clicking noise wavered the air around her and she bit down against the pain. The ghost rushed at her, roaring. Fast and relentless, the spear came down around her, striking the metal, and flesh when she was not fast enough. Gnashing her teeth, she bit back against cries of pain. She would not let him hear how much he was hurting her, she would not let him have the satisfaction. But it hurt, oh did it hurt.

His goal, of course, was to hurt her, to make her cry and scream, to bring out that weakness in her. The thought filled her with anger, but anger was not enough, anger did not give her the strength to overpower, or the skill to overcome. The weapon in her hands was as useless as an instrument given to a pig. Had it been a gun, or even a bow, this fight would have gone much differently.

Her bitter thoughts distracted her, a sharp pain erupted across her shoulder and she cried out, buckling. He won. The harsh rattle of disapproval struck her ears almost as harshly as the weapon that cracked against her back, forcing her to her hands and knees.

Roaring, Hannah threw herself forward, smashing her shoulder against his legs, causing him to take only one step back to regain his balance, but it was long enough for her to be on her feet again.

"Why!?" she screamed at her opponent, "why this!?" her voice was as much anguish as it was pain, but the emotion was not heeded and the ghost reared back to attack again, she turned the spear defensively once more and continued to cry out, "you're going to win! You always do! I'm never going to win!"

"You're not meant to win," growled the predator, and his weapon smacked against hers with unbridled strength, causing a final shock of pain to go through her hands and she dropped the spear with an exclamation. The instantaneous feeling of dread filled her before the weapon even impacted the ground.

Bad. She was back-handed with an immense heat, smashed against a tree, sure that something was broken as she lay on the ground, panting in the taste of dark moist soil.

"Just improve."

Hannah groaned painfully as she pushed herself up. Her muscles shuddering and twitching as feeling started to come back to them. She heaved for air, twigs and leaves littered her dark damp hair as equally dark hair turned towards the ghost.

"Improve?" she whimpered. Crackling static sizzled through the air before her. Ripples of electricity ran over the huge form, fading away in sections to reveal the large olive and bruise-colored body of the predator, red mask looking down at her as his three-fingered hand moved away from his gauntlet. Jar-hidda didn't answer, whipping around, causing his black dreads to smack against his skin. The red ornaments glittered in the light as he walked away from her.

Hannah groaned and collapsed back into the dirt.


	2. Square One

Eventually, Hannah dragged herself out of the dirt and followed Jar-hidda's tracks back to camp where she promptly collapsed back into the dirt. The hunter didn't give her so much as a sideways glance as he focused on a disk-shaped device the size of his hand.

Hannah zero, Jar-hidda five.

Yes, five times he had done this to her. Five times he was forced to land on a planet because something on his ship stopped working, or just fell completely off. Five times he shoved a weapon into her hand and shoved her out the door of the ship, telling her to run. The first time had been terrifying. She didn't know what he was doing, and the world had been a very scary place. She hadn't even made it out of sight of the ship before Jar-hidda descended upon her and beat her into submission.

She eventually learned, like she learned a lot of things.

"Jar-hidda, what is 'improve?'" she asked from her place, face half-buried in dirt. She spoke in the yautja language, a very growlish and guttural sounding mess that she punctuated with weak snapping of her fingers.

The alien paused in his work and looked up at the sky, rattling slowly, no doubt he was going through the words that he knew Hannah knew. Hannah had been learning the language for two months, she had a basic understanding of it. She was lucky that it was very basic; one word meant one thing, there weren't fifteen synonyms to a single word in the language; cat was cat, there was no kitty, feline, pussy or mouser, just cat. On Earth, of course, it made things easier for the both of them as Jar-hidda often knew the synonym to a word he normally didn't understand. He could not apply the same logic here.

"To make good," he finally decided on, looking at her and waiting for a gesture of understanding. She closed her eyes and sighed, pushing herself out of the dirt.

"Make good," she repeated, snapping her fingers where appropriate. Jar-hidda nodded and she dropped her hands into her lap. It was hard to snap her fingers when her hands were numb, but it was imperitive to being able to 'speak' the language properly. She lacked the tusks required for the clicking that was necessary for the proper pronunciation of words, she substituted with snapping her fingers, which Jar-hidda found acceptable.

He had made it very clear that if she was going to stay with him, she would be learning his language, though he warned not to speak the language to any others of his kind. Apparently, the human voice was on such a high register to the aliens that it was annoying to listen to. When Jar-hidda spoke normally, it was on such a low register that often individual words couldn't even be heard, and to human ears it was all a garbled mess of growling and clicking, and when Jar-hidda was speaking to her, he was intentionally raising his voice 'squeaky-high' in order for her to understand him. It was an amusing notion, but she was glad that he was at least trying to cater to her in some way.

The language was easy to learn, it was almost like talking like a caveman; 'flower pretty,' and 'me no like,' was the grammatically correct way of speaking. Not what she would have expected of an alien race capable of space travel. Still Jar-hidda seemed to struggle with her lessons, obviously not the teaching type. It was a small little victory, knowing that he was in the same frustrating position she had been on Earth.

"Improve why?" she asked and the alien froze, slowly looking at her. Obviously it had been a stupid question, so she let it drop, looking away from the cold grey gaze of the alien's mask, rubbing her sore muscles, hoping that she would have at least a day's reprieve before he tried this again, she could already see the bruises developing.

"How much time on this world?" she asked and Jar-hidda lifted his head to the sky again and thought for a moment.

"A few days," he answered. Hannah sighed.

They sat in silence for a while, though 'silence' was an inappropriate term. The jungle around them was buzzing with life; chittering insects, crying birds, the rustling of brush as larger animals ambled through. She sat staring at a single light that penetrated the canopy, watched it move very slowly across the ground as she tapped a finger against her spear. She was no good with it. She wished Jar-hidda would just accept that she was not made for melee combat, but he refused to give her a gun. She figured, he didn't trust her with a plasma caster, she didn't know why though.

Just as the light touched the end of the spear, she lifted it up. She was bored, and hungry, and she was going to relieve both in a way that the alien would approve of.

"I'm going hunting," she said as a pleasantry only. He would have guessed what she was doing if she had left with the weapon, but she was still too set in her human ways. Jar-hidda looked up, gave a single curt nod, and went back to work.

Hannah jogged back into the jungle, intent to not go far in case something happened to her and Jar-hidda could come help. _If_ he would help. She wasn't sure exactly, he seemed to flip flop between that kind of decision when it came to life-threatening situations. On Earth, he had idly stood by and watched as a cougar mauled her in the snow, yet he had rescued her from the brink of death after the final showdown with Weyland.

She wasn't sure how long she had been in a coma; Jar-hidda's ship had been fully repaired by the time she had awakened. She wagered maybe a month or two, considering how long it had taken him to jury-rig his ship when they were on Earth.

She tried not to think about it as she crouched low in the ferns and moved forward quietly. She distracted her mind from the memory of the empty realization that she did not recognize the place she was in, the panicked banging against the transparent shell that had her trapped, the release into scalding air that immediately assaulted her and clawed at her lungs, the choking and coughing, fighting against scorching hands that gripped her and held her down.

She tried to breathe evenly as she set her eyes to the jungle, looking through the ferns for one of the herbivorous animals. Who knew how many millennia the creatures had to adapt to their environment, to become masters of blending into the plants that surrounded them? But she was a hunter, she would adapt and prevail. She had to if she wanted to eat. Further and further she went into the jungle, no longer as alert as when she knew that Jar-hidda was hunting her, merely listening for the sounds, waiting for her prey to make the mistake to reveal itself.

She would have to be careful, she was already hurt, and tangoing with any of the dinosaur-esque animals was out of the question. For her it was always out of the question. She never went toe-to-toe with an elk on Earth, she was not about to risk dismemberment here either. She would have to throw her spear, and try her damnedest to bring down something with just the one strike. She wanted to get this done before the soreness in her muscles really set in. It was a really stupid idea to entertain the idea of this much exercise so soon after her previous ordeal, it was practically begging for torn muscles, but if she didn't do it, she wasn't going to eat.

The life of a hunter was hard, and incompetence meant death.

She finally spotted what she was looking for, the scaly back of a short-legged but powerful grazer. Large tusks jutted out from its bottom jaw, darkened at the ends from all the times used as digging instruments to till the dirt and dig out the roots of the plants. She knew the rules of this kind of hunt, looking about she noticed the green backs of other individuals of the herd, and began looking for signs of weakness.

Rule number seven: when hunting for food, kill the weak ensuring that the strong survive and bolster the lines. It was very backwards for her, who had been taught to hunt a strong specimen of the species to gain the most meat, but it made sense in the natural order.

She picked out what she thought was maybe a sickly member of the herd, the colors of its back were faded a bit, but she may have just been assuming, a habit she knew was dangerous by experience. She would get a closer look and make sure.

Very carefully she circled around, definitely being attentive now, ducking under a fern and taking the longer way around if the short path looked to be too noisy or sparse in foliage. She eventually got to where she could single out the greying individual and studied it. Something was definitely wrong with it; in addition to the grey colors, it walked with its head closer to the ground, made a hollow chuffing noise occasionally while it breathed. She wasn't sure if this meant it was sick or old, but both were okay according to the rules right? She definitely didn't want to break the rules again, last time was frightening.

She debated for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that the beast was legal for food. She tried to identify the kill spot, unsure if the spear in her hand would be strong enough to go through the seemingly thick hide, but didn't trust her skill to go for the obvious 'headshot' method and aiming for its eye. She decided to bank on her assumption that something vital should be behind its shoulder, and waited for it to move.

Her legs were already cramping, but still she waited. It seemed like a full hour before the beast ambled to an angel that she had a clear shot. She lifted the spear slowly, holding it over her shoulder and gripping it tightly. She held one hand in front of her as a counter-balance, waited, held her breath even though it was painful, bit her lip and steeled herself.

The spear flew from her hand, arching in the air. She knew it was a failed through the moment it left her fingertips. The end of the spear turned downwards, and the shaft struck the side of the beast harmlessly before falling to the ground.

Hannah smacked herself hard as the beast bellowed a warning. She sighed in disappointment as the whole herd turned and fled away from her position, crashing through the trees and scattering everything in their paths. She huffed, fell to her ass and slapped her knees. Her lips thinned as she stared ahead at the trampled forest that was left in the wake of the grazers.

Not only had she unsuccessfully hunted, failed in a horrifically embarrassing way, but she had also just probably scared everything else out of the area.

She was a good hunter on Earth, she was a god-awful one in space.

Unwilling to follow the herd or search for more things to hunt, she stood up, tightened her metaphorical belt and, grabbing her spear, tramped back to camp.

Jar-hidda didn't look back when she returned, probably already aware of her failure. She didn't say anything either, only walked right up to him, lifted and extended the spear, and then stabbed it into the ground beside him. He didn't even flinch, but he did give her a slow warning glance that she didn't see, as she ducked into the ship, seeking the solace of the cold uncaring machine, and the only source of air-conditioning she had in the wide expanse of the universe.


	3. The New Home

This is my formal apology to my readers. I'm very sorry for the sudden rewrite. I did not feel well about how the first two chapters were written, and was resolved to rewrite them with a bit more detail for a more powerful delivery. This caused the first two chapters to be expanded into three. Once again, I'm very sorry for the deliberate change, and hope you enjoy the slight revision, and the rest of the story.

* * *

When the ship had been broken down, sitting in the interior of the large cave behind her house, up on a mountain, Hannah had believed the ship to be about as long as a semi-truck, and fairly wide. Now, having lived in it for the past three months, two minus the month-long series of going in and out of the healing tube for every new alien flu she caught, she knew it was a bit larger than her first impression. The ship had four rooms, and some kind of engineer's room beneath everything else, where Jar-hidda spent a lot of time fixing the ship whenever it broke down.

The ship itself was old, Hannah found out; outdated. Jar-hidda had been jury-rigging it to keep it flying long before it ever crashed on her mountain. It had a name, Jar-hidda had tried to explain it to her, something about the past, but it never clicked, and he had no English word for it to offer for understanding.

It was roomy, if you ignored the single circuit that was the hallway that gave access to the four rooms and the front control. It definitely felt alien though. The metal walls were etched with glyphs and pictures that reminded her of ancient Egyptian or Mayan temples, lit by red lights that came from kanji-like alien script glowing along the beams that arched down the hallway every ten feet or so. There was a distinct lack of color, everything was grey, or dark grey. Made sense though, Jar-hidda couldn't see color, just heat. Light had been the lucky bi-product of the heated glyphs and beams that were meant to guide Jar-hidda through the halls.

She had walked that circuit so many, she was sure she had gone mad. She knew the walls and rooms by heart, well, most of them anyway. She spent most of her time in Jar-hidda's room, with the kitchen being a close second. She purposely avoided the medical room if she could help it, and outright refused to enter the fourth room.

It was, unfortunately, Jar-hidda's favorite room, it was where he would go to meditate, to train, and of course, to polish and display his trophies. Ever since she discovered, to her horror, that the alien she had nursed back to health hunted humans for sport, their relationship had become different. Now it was even more complicated, but regardless, she wouldn't even walk by the room if the door was open. This meant that her and him spent most of their time separate because he spent more time in there than he did in the seat of the space ship.

That unnerved Hannah a bit, being in a moving vehicle with no driver. But she soon learned the ship had a sort of auto pilot, and there was really hardly anything to crash into in space.

She was sitting in the chair now, high-backed, and with a wide seat, obviously meant for someone much larger than her. But she was in it for one very important reason: it swiveled. She swung herself back and forth, one of her arms hanging over the side as she stroked the scaly back of the large bearded dragon, staring out the front window.

It had been a small mercy, waking up from death, in a space ship, learning that she wouldn't ever be able to return to Earth, to have at least one thing that was familiar. Smaug was once again her rock, her link to sanity much as he had been when she was with Jar-hidda on Earth, and the lizard still didn't like the alien at all.

She pet and nuzzled the animal, who made no noise, but cocked his head to the side and looked at her.

"_I bet you want to go outside and catch some of those bugs,_" she said to him quietly in English, "_I'd let you, you'd probably be better at hunting this place than me._"

The dragon did not respond, and she smiled and kissed his back, rubbing her cheek against him as she returned to staring out the window. Oddly enough it was made out of a type of transparent material similar to glass. It gave her a clear view of the jungle right outside, not there was much to see past the copious amounts of lush ferns already trying to grow over the ship. Green, green and more green, it was like being snowed-in in Montana, but with plants.

She swiveled the chair to her left, her thoughts going to home as they often did. Her eyes fell to a panel on the left armrest, the red symbols stationary. She knew better than to touch, a very similar set up was on Jar-hidda's left arm, and it had the capability of blowing up an entire skyscraper. She had wondered, though, if ever she had pushed enough buttons, if the ship would take her back to Earth?

A small hissing noise was the only warning she got before a massive hand clamped around her head, sharp claws tapping against her brow for a moment, before she was firmly but not abruptly pushed out of the seat. Still she plopped to the ground, turning in a way so that she could see the massive alien as he stalked around the seat and sat in it. She lifted her arms up in defeat, before dropping them back down into her lap. Smaug had flipped position on her shoulder, so that he could properly threaten the much larger reptilian, beard flared impressively.

Of course, Jar-hidda was not impressed, taking the disk-like device and leaning forward in his chair, putting it back in its place in the console in front of it. It depressed down and sank in until the surface of the console was level again. The console lit up with symbols, complete once more. He sat back in his chair, looking very regal and turned his mask towards her.

"Your hunt was unsuccessful," he stated and she gave him a look. They both knew it hadn't been successful, saying it out loud was just salt on the wound.

"If you would give me a…," she failed to find an appropriate word, and gestured with her hand the same canon that was usually on his shoulder. Today it was not. In fact, today seemed to be casual, Jar-hidda was in no armor, without mesh, and was just wearing his mask and some kind of kilt wrapped around his waist, similarly to what Hannah was wearing herself, having had to wear what he had available, since her old clothes had been shot to hell.

"No," Jar-hidda rattled the familiar answer and she sighed, glowering at him. She didn't understand why he didn't let her wield the weapon she would be good with, she didn't understand the reason behind needing to train with the spear, the wristblades, the glaive and all the other close-combat weapons he kept forcing onto her.

"And it's called a burner."

"Burner," repeated Hannah half-heartedly looking away as she helped herself up using the armrest of the chair. She was about to leave when she felt the back of Jar-hidda's hand touch lightly against her forearm. She looked at him as he sat almost eye-level with her and waited for whatever it was he was about to say.

"There is food outside, go eat. I'm going to be calling another ship to negotiate trades, stay outside while I call."

Hannah mulled over what he said and was able to piece together the meaning. She gave him a curt nod and moved away from him, six feet back before turning. It was those kinds of instances that showed that Jar-hidda cared for her on some level. It wasn't friendship, it wasn't as a companion. Oh no, she understood quickly that just because Jar-hidda had brought her along with him didn't mean that she was something equal to him like Alexa had been, but rather that the only reason she was alive was because Jar-hidda viewed her as something akin to his beloved dog. He trained her, and she remained loyal and obedient, occasionally having to be put back in her place for random outbursts.

She was far from happy with this arrangement, but he had saved her life, and she owed him that.

Outside, Jar-hidda had left her one of those lizard creatures roasting on a stick over a fire. He had not taken any of it, preferring his meat still bleeding when he tore it to pieces and swallowed it whole. She had since lost patience to allow the meat to cook to her preferred doneness of medium rare, having on several occaision gone hungry after Jar-hidda ran out of meat, and having to wait for days to find a viable planet with edible animals on it. She had since acquired a taste for a state or rare that would probably make most humans ill.

As it was, the lizard was already ready to eat by the time she plopped down by the fire, which she promptly kicked enough dirt onto to smother. The area was hot enough already.

She used a leather thong off of her wrist to tie back her hair before digging in. Other than the kilt, Hannah had adopted very little else of Jar-hidda's traditional dress. The mesh she wore when they were on cold planets, well, planets that were cold even to her. The sandals she had to modify to fit her feet a bit better, as Jar-hidda's feet were of course much larger than her own, and had a toe down by the inner arch of his foot that the sandals accommodated. And she had used another one of his kilt wraps to fashion herself some kind of chest covering for decency, which Jar-hidda found to be hilarious. Other than that, Hannah had no armor, didn't have a mask, and hadn't bothered trying to get her hair to replicate the long tresses Jar-hidda had, instead opting to let it down free, and tie it back when relevant.

She was due for a cut, her hair nearly reached the middle of her back now.

Hannah paused in gorging herself long enough to tear off a piece and hand it to Smaug. The lizard cocked his head at it a few times, then looked at her as if asking what he was supposed to do with it. The picky lizard usually only ate living food, it was a clever trick of the crickets she usually fed him to remain still and cause him to think they were dead. There was no fun in chasing something that wouldn't move. She wiggled the piece of meat to try to make it seem like it was a living thing. It took a moment, but eventually the lizard snapped at it and chomped it down. She smiled and rubbed his head before tearing a piece off for herself.

Jar-hidda joined her not long after, stopping to stand behind her. She looked up at him and lifted the stick with the lizard on it, offering him some. He looked at it, tore off a chuck and lifted his mask. Three mandibles snatched up the meat and fed it into his hidden mouth as he looked down at Hannah, who tore another piece off for Smaug.

"What time will… people come?" she asked nonchalantly, trying to make friendly chat.

"There was a ship nearby," he said, replacing his mask, "the Jungle Hunter clan. They will likely be arriving within the day."

Hannah knew what that meant, not that she would protest. She would be in the ship for a day, safe from the other predators, the other yautja.

Yautja. That was what Jar-hidda was, what his species was. They were hunters by culture, space travelers only for the need to hunt more challenging game. She had heard the term only once before when she was on Earth, a word that Jar-hidda had referred to the woman, Alexa Woods, by. A word she had not been taught in his three-month stay on Earth. But now she knew why: Alexa was as much yautja to them as they were to each other. Hannah was not. Because of this, other yautja outside of Jar-hidda were dangerous for Hannah to be around, yautja who might not take kindly to Jar-hidda's choice of 'pet.'

She had a curiosity, of course, of what other yautja were like, if they were like Jar-hidda, what kinds of colors they came in, the different masks and armor they must wear. But it was not worth dying for. So she mentally prepared herself for a day alone in the ship.

"What is 'jungle?'"

Jar-hidda rattled and turned, spreading his arms over the expanse of the area, fingers out-stretched, "all this," he explained and she swept her gaze across the trees and plants, "do you like it here?" he asked, lowering his hands again as she sat down near her.

Hannah chewed slowly on some meat, offering the stick to him again and looked down at the smothered fire, "too hot, and I'm breathing water."

Jar-hidda laughed his human laugh that he seemed so fond of, and she shook his humor off with a toss of her head. Jar-hidda was always amused by her definition of 'too hot.'

"We'll hunt larger animals… yet?" she tried, continuing the idle chatter.

"Soon," he corrected her and then answered her question with a gesture of his hand, "when they leave, we'll go hunting."

Hannah nodded compliantly, before snatching the stick with the lizard away from him and standing, "mine," she claimed and the yautja stayed poised with his claw outstretched for another piece of meat, watching her back away from him respectfully before returning to his ship. She heard the door close behind her, controlled remotely by the gauntlet on Jar-hidda's wrist. She made her way around the circuit to Jar-hidda's personal room. She felt most comfortable there, and was sure Jar-hidda wouldn't mind if she ate within.


	4. School of Hard Knocks

Hannah sat on the edge of a bridge, legs dangling and kicking, an ice-cream cone in her right hand as she looked up at the sky. Her little eight-year old felt heavy, even with the large parka she was wearing. It was May, almost June and it had snowed just yesterday. The street behind her was clear, the sky above her was dark with large bright stars. Beside her, a woman eating her own ice-cream cone also looked upwards, pointing out constellations in the sky, but also teaching her about the constellations' positions, so that if she ever got lost, she could know what direction to walk in.

Hannah smiled and licked her ice cream, dark eyes sparkling as they reflected the stars.

"Hey mom?" she asked out of the blue, "do you think there's such thing as aliens?"

Her mother licked her ice cream cone with a long, thin tongue and turned to her daughter, dark eyes sparkling with laughter as her upper mandibles spread in glee, "of course not love."

Hannah jolted in shock and looked around. It had been a dream, a weird-ass dream, but she was still forty, her mother was dead, nobody ate ice cream in winter, and there was such thing as aliens. She huffed and sighed, plopping back down into the soft pile of furs that topped the massive bed in Jar-hidda's room. She caught her breath and blinked her eyes to clear them, slightly annoyed that she had awakened back into the familiar alien surroundings of Jar-hidda's ship, but oh well, such was reality.

Now that she was awake, she scrambled out of the bed to the ground, setting up her small pile of furs and laying back down on them. It was vengeance and she knew it, revenge for having kicked him in the nuts and forcing him to sleep on the ground, that Jar-hidda now made her sleep on the hard, cold metal floor of his ship. She would give anything to have that large uncomfortable oak chair from her house to sleep in again over the flat and unforgiving ground.

But as the saying goes, 'when the cat's away, the mice will play.' Only in this case it was 'when the cat's away the mice will sleep in its comfy-ass bed.' She was safe as long as he never found out right? Smaug hadn't moved much from where she had left him, which was on her pile of furs that was her bed. She often wondered if he was comfortable for him in the ship. She recalled the argument between her and Jar-hidda to negotiate a middle-ground temperature and humidity to keep his ship at, so that the both of them weren't _dying._ It was only slightly less hot than this planet. While the temperature was perfect for Smaug, he was a desert animal, and the humidity, maybe, was making things unpleasant for him. She had gotten used to it, and Smaug seemed to be fine.

She gently rubbed the top of the bearded dragon's head with the tip of her finger and smiled. She then turned on her back and sighed, looking at the ceiling. This room was by far the least adorned room of the ship, rather than being the place of personal space and dwelling, it seemed that it only served the purpose of being somewhere to sleep and get cleaned. It had one bed, and something kind of like a stand-in shower that used steam to clean rather than pouring water.

There were no skulls here, the trophy room was meant for that. Where she might have expected tapestries or curtains, there was only barren, carved walls. It was odd for her, raised as she was with the sense that a room was a personal sanctuary, Jar-hidda had no such emotional investment in this area of his ship.

She was just beginning to wonder how long she had been asleep for when the door to the room opened. She shifted and looked over at Jar-hidda who looked in on her, seemed satisfied about something, and then merely said, "come."

Hannah obeyed, sitting up, stretching, and then standing. She arched her back to get the kinks out before jogging out the door and catching up to Jar-hidda. She leaned her back against the carved wall when he entered into the trophy room, folding her arms and waiting, able to hear his movement as he prepared for the hunt. She could hear the shifting mesh, the scrap of metal plates, the metallic ringing of weapons being checked over. It seemed to take forever before he came out and looked at her.

Jar-hidda swept his arm, inviting her into the trophy room and she shook her head with a defiant glare. If he wanted her in there, he'd have to drag her kicking and screaming. However, he didn't, instead stepping back inside and coming out with the weapons he had modified for her use, and her mesh.

"It's too hot!" she protested, which earned an amused rattle from the yautja.

"It's also armor."

"Armor?" she repeated.

Jar-hidda moved a claw along the crimson pauldrons and breastplate of his outfit. She set her jaw and nodded in understanding, taking the things he handed her and went back to the room. The mesh had to go under the everything else, which required her to undress, which she still preferred to do away from Jar-hidda, even though he established that he didn't care. Seemed his culture was nude-friendly and clothing-optional. Thankfully, he at least wore a kilt whenever around her.

Not that she hadn't seen all he had to offer already.

She looked at the weapons he selected for her for this hunt and sighed. Still no gun. She instead fitted the wristblades onto her right arm, flexing the muscle that caused them to extend, then again to retract them. It was an absurdly easy mechanism to trigger, and she had to learn to be careful about how she moved her arm when she had the weapon attached. Jar-hidda seemed to do it without a thought, Hannah had to constantly remind herself, or have the weapon stabbing her in her leg to remind her for her.

In addition to the wristbaldes, she had her spear, which she slipped into her kilt and tightened it. The last weapon was a maul, one of the only weapons that didn't follow the same 'retractibility' standard of everything else that the Yautja seemed so fond of.

She hated this weapon. It was heavy, cumbersome and slow. Training in it had only shown her just how much upper body strength she didn't have. So held it in her hand as she exited the room to a waiting Jar-hidda. She held out the maul to him and said very slowly with pointed snaps, "I. Want. A. Burner."

Jar-hidda rattled, cocking his head at her for a moment before leaning away from the wall. He reached up and disconnected one of the canons from above his shoulder. Hannah couldn't believe he was actually, finally, going to let her use a gun. She reached out for the gun as he extended it towards her, only to snatch it away.

"Mine," he said in her voice and her expression dropped instantly. He turned and walked away from her, laughing and reattaching his gun as she bristled. Even armed with _his_ weapons, he considered her no threat.

She clenched her jaw and huffed, abandoning the heavy maul in the room.

He led her outside. It was still as green as when she left it, still hot, and still humid. She was already very jealous of Jar-hidda's mask.

He shut the ramp behind them and Hannah watched it close, then looked around for tell-tale signs of the other Yautja. They weren't hard to find, deep footprints were left in the soft earth, she could see where weapons were stabbed in the ground, but no signs of a landing. They must have had their ship somewhere else.

"What are we hunting?" she asked, looking away from their little clearing.

"There is no honor in grazers Hannah," Jar-hidda merely answered. He touched his gauntlet and the ship behind them cloaked. Without any further words, Jar-hidda led them into the jungle. Keeping up with the predator was a pain. He preferred a much more active style of hunting than she ever had on Earth. She preferred learning her prey's patterns, setting up on a path and waiting for them to come to her.

Jar-hidda liked running, and jumping, and climbing and swinging, then dropping and running again, and of course stabbing the thing personally in the throat.

She had seen some of the parkour videos of people who could run up straight buildings and get to places normal people, like her, would believe out of reach. Jar-hidda reminded her a lot of those people, especially when he ran at a tree, jumped, grabbed a branch and pulled himself onto it, then hopped across the branches without a single pause in momentum, like he was doing now.

Hannah groaned and charged the tree, jumping up, missing the branch and falling back to the ground. Jar-hidda stopped and turned to look, eyes flashing at her as she stood back up, cursing under her breath. She looked for a lower branch, located one easily in this dense jungle, and ran to it. She climbed up, from branch to branch, then, like a squirrel, crawled out along the extended branch and transferred to the other tree. She jumped across the same path he had, catching up to him with quite a bit of difficulty, and not getting a break as he turned and continued on.

She repeated to herself all the curse words she had learned from Jar-hidda back on Earth, stumbling and pulling muscles, waving her arms to keep her balance, once accidentally unsheathing the wristblades deep into the meat of a tree and getting stuck. She hated every minute of it. And she still couldn't breathe. She tried to be quiet though, to not any complaint slip outwardly as branches cut her skin, continuously falling behind Jar-hidda as she kept falling over the branches, forcing the predator to stop and turn to see where she was.

_Keep up_, he would always motion in the hunting sign language. She wanted to smack him. Hard. Gnashing her teeth she pulled herself up a branch, huffed and jumped for the next one. She landed on it but it snapped under her weight. With a cry she fell, smacking her head on the previous branch and seeing stars.

It took her a moment to realize she wasn't falling and blinked past the dancing lights to see Jar-hidda's hand wrapped tightly around her ankle. She hung limp for a while, piecing things back together before she gasped and grabbed her kilt, pushing it back into place, causing him to click in amusement.

"_Shut up,_" she snarled in English and he laughed his human laugh, "_pull me up!_" he didn't, instead swung her back and forth , watching her fold her arms and glower at him before snatching her kilt back up as it threatened to fall again. He laughed again and clicked in a teasing way then stopped. She heard it too and looked around, then turned when a bunch of plants were torn down, and a large dark green reptile crashed through. It was charging, and not stopping, rushing right towards the conveniently hanging prey in its path.

"_Pull me up Jolly!"_

She was suddenly flying through the air, hearing the jaws of he predator snap on nothing. Her stomach falling as her arms flailed for something to grab onto, latching on to the first feeling of rough bark and hanging on. She turned to look and saw Jar-hidda on the ground below. The predator recovered from its charge and turned around, long two-toed legs spinning it with graceful agility as its long snout opened in a challenging hiss, two rows of teeth bared at the yautja.

Jar-hidda had his glaive out and poised, crouched with one hand extended forward, palm facing his opponent one finger bent down. She had seen this battle pose before. _Jehdin-jehdin_ it was called, one on one. Usually she was on the other side of that stance.

Predator circled predator around the small area they had to fight in, trees passing between them as they sized each other up. Jar-hidda rattled in response to another hiss. The beast exposed its teeth and paused, shoulders arching as muscles readied for another charge.

A short battle-cry announced Hannah's re-appearance, letting gravity add strength to her strike as she hit the back of the reptile, digging her spear deep between its shoulders, but it proved to have a thick hide. It felt the pain though, and it whirled and spun, trying to dislodge her as she held on to the spear, and then it shot off in a direction.

Branches and leaves slapped her face as the monster barreled forward, eyes straight ahead with its long tail held straight behind it. This wasn't good. If she got too far away from Jar-hidda, she'd be ending this fight alone, which was to say, she was going to die.

The reptile stopped suddenly, almost throwing her off of its back and right in the way of that long dangerous snout, but she kept a grip on the spear. She repositioned herself and tried to put her weight into the spear, to force it down lower into something vital, but it kept spinning and shaking. Hissing and growling.

"_Come on come on!_" she yelled, feeling the spear only sink down another inch or so. Then the reptile balked, it dropped to the ground and before Hannah could react, it rolled over. The spear's end snapped, and so did many of her bones under the massive weight of the monster. The soft dirt only absorbed some of the damage, but she was left winded, staring up at the leaves in a daze. It didn't last long.

With a bellowing scream of rage, the reptile got on its feet and snapped on her leg, tossing its head back and forth, trying to tear her to pieces. She cried out in pain and flailed for something to grab onto, anything to pull her away from the monster. Her hands found the broken end of the spear and she stabbed it into the nose of the reptile. It roared and backed away from her. It stumbled, swayed and one leg collapsed underneath it.

It recovered slightly only to start side-stepping in one direction until a tree halted its movement. It slid down, making a deep guttural groaning noise. Its mouth opened and blue-black blood poured out, then it was still. Hannah watched it for a moment, wondering where Jar-hidda was, she hadn't seen where his attack had come from. The yautja appeared from the trees, dropping down next to the dead reptile before finding Hannah and running over to her. Her head fell back to the ground and she held in sobs of pain, knowing that the yautja would disapprove, and that it would only hurt worse.

"Almost everything is broken," he said, having scanned her body. Tears squeezed out of her eyes as she tried to breathe in a way that didn't hurt.

"_No, really_?"

"Hannah," he said and felt his hand slip under her neck. She closed her eyes tightly and winced in pain. She didn't want to speak yautja right now.

"You win," she said plaintively, "again. …Just… let's go home."

Gravity hurt as Jar-hidda lifted her from the ground. Her fingers gripped onto his mesh tightly as her teeth clenched, praying to God to grant Jar-hidda a smoother gait. She felt the slightly cooler but entirely breathable air hit her and knew she was in the ship, then the familiar scent of the medical room caused her to groan. Jar-hidda laid her down, and then stuck a needle directly into her heart. She bit back against the pain, still trying to look strong in front of the yautja despite practically writing. He removed the needle and set it down, tapping on some buttons and she saw the canister close around her.

Great, another week in this thing. Might as well be her bed.


	5. Fubar

Author's Note: very sorry everyone for the delayed updates, I've been having connectivity problems, so I can't do the minor research for details on a whim like I need to, and of course being actually able to post up the chapters depends on when I can find good wifi. It seems to have finally stabilized, and I hope it stays that way. Very sorry again for how long it's taken.

* * *

Hannah awoke from her deep sleep. It was a slow fade in from the blackness into consciousness, looking up at the glass above her. She closed her eyes and shifted, wincing slightly from stiffness before lifting her hand and touched the inside of the canister. She dropped her arm down with a grunt, lifted her hands and rubbed her eyes. She had faint memories of what she had dreamed while she was under. Something about a circus of cats, her on the trapeze, with John, Emily, Mike and her mom in the audience, and then the whole thing being interrupted when they were attacked by something like a quadrupedal Godzilla, who tore through the tent.

Weird dreams like that tended to happen when she was in the canister; she blamed it on the alien medicine. Her hand moved along beside where she was laying, feeling the smooth metal until she found the small divot and pressed it. The Canister slid open with a hiss and she took a breath of the humid air, almost choking.

Half-stepping half-sliding out of the tube, she bent and took a heavy breath. She felt weak, standing was too much exercise, but she forced herself to remain on her feet rather than sit down. She stretched herself out, massaged her legs to get feeling back into them and wiggled her arms, clenching and unclenching her fingers. From the numbness, she had been unconscious for a few days, though 'days' was an abstract term in space. She had no monitor of time other than Jar-hidda, whose 'days' were very different than hers.

Hannah gave herself a quick check-up, remembering that the reason she had been in the canister was because she had been squished under two-tons of reptilian monster. She had faith in Jar-hidda's alien medicine, seemed to be one of the things that were very high-tech for such a primitive culture, but just things that could keep one going in a fight. All her ribs felt fine, as she poked and prodded them, she was having no trouble breathing, aside from sucking 100% humidity into her lungs, and all her limbs appeared to be on correctly. Best of all: no scarring. She had had enough of scars from the numerous bullet wounds that littered her torso. How one person can be shot that many times and live was beyond her.

Oh right, alien medicine.

She sighed and slapped her thighs, wondering where Smaug was before hearing her stomach growl and frowned. She looked down at her abdomen with disapproval. She set aside looking for the lizard after breakfast and moved to the kitchen. The room was a place of fond memories. Other than the bedroom it was where Jar-hidda was at his most peaceful. It was primitively set up, there were no tables, no chairs, but there were compartments for the storage of meats, bowls and pots. There was nothing really like a stove, but there was a plate on the floor that cooked with intense bursts of heat, much like the burner in his medical kit.

And it turned out yautja _did_ have something like stew, and even ate a sort of fruit stew on occasion.

Hannah peeked into the meat storage and pulled out a grey slab of meat. It must have been from the beast that had almost killed her. It smelled like it. She got out something like a metal skillet and pushed the buttons to start up a blue fire. She put the skillet on and slapped the meat on, searing it on both sides and letting it cook for almost literally just one minute before taking it off.

She lacked the claws and strength to just tear it into pieces like Jar-hidda did, but settled for just tearing into it with her teeth. It was bland, very bland, almost disgusting, but her stomach accepted it without much complaint. She wished that Jar-hidda had gathered her spices along with Smaug, he had seemed to like them when they were on Earth.

She finished the meat quickly and went to go take care of other things.

The essential 'bathroom,' was in Jar-hidda's room, much like a master bedroom, it was sectioned off by a clear wall, which Hannah had at first complained about, but Jar-hidda informed her that he couldn't see through it, it was as much a wall to him as if she were looking at brick. The toilet was something she would expect to see on the spaceship of a barbarian, a hole in the floor, that no doubt shot whatever went in, into the vastness of space.

It was kind of humorous to wonder if any other kind of spaceship was flying around running into frozen crap, cursing profusely.

The shower was probably Hannah's favorite part of Jar-hidda's room. While it was not separated from the toilet in any way, the entire room being just one level floor, its location was denoted by the small holes in the walls that, when activated, produced a heavy mist that collected on skin very quickly, like dew. For Jar-hidda, once this was done, all he had to do was take a pumice-like stone and just scrape off the dead layer of skin like a proper reptile.

Hannah didn't shed her skin, but she made due with the stone, and the ever lingering scent of just _her_. It was something she was used to. Where she lived, running hot water was a pain. She took cold showers, seldom, and only long enough to get dirt and blood off her skin and oil out of her hair.

Overall, being in Jar-hidda's shower was like being in a sauna, and often she would just sit down and enjoy it. She did such, running the stone over her skin, leaving it smooth, and thinking about what was going to happen next. Jar-hidda was a creature of routine, very much like her. There was daily ship maintenance, training, eating and sleeping. It wasn't really different from the life Hannah led on Earth, though hers included the routine of taking care of her pets. Though, as she thought about it, Jar-hidda had that responsibility as well now.

The problem was, Hannah was never included in any of those thing besides eating and sleeping. While Jar-hidda allowed her to clean and tidy up if she saw fit, she was not allowed to push buttons or mess with loose wires. The alien's jury-rigging was apparently a very fragile thing, and an ignorant tug or push of something could cause the whole ship to malfunction. And training for Hannah was only a thing when they were on planet, because she refused to go into that room. So Hannah was often bored, sitting around and watching as Jar-hidda fixed something, picking at little pieces of metal he would throw around and learning more curse-words.

That was the routine, and sometimes it got so that she would wish Jar-hidda would stop on a planet and beat her up just for a change of pace.

She inhaled deeply, then sighed and stood, shutting off the mist and stepping out. The fog pooled out behind her as the glass slid away and she stepped into the room. She got dressed in her two kilts and worked her fingers through her damp hair. She organized her pile of furs and even straightened out the blanket on Jar-hidda's bed. Resting her hands on her hips she thought about what else she could do today, and finally thought of where Jar-hidda was. She couldn't hear him on the other side of the wall, but that didn't mean anything. She paused and held her breath, listening for any subtle noises that would give away the large alien's position.

The sound of scraping, whirring or hissing would be the quieter noises that would mean he was in the trophy room. Banging and cursing would mean he was in the floor below, working on the ship. But she didn't hear anything. Furrowing her brow, she stepped out and looked both ways down the hallway, then choosing to go towards the front of the ship. As she rounded the spade-like curve she could see that there was a bright red light illuminating the front of the ship, which meant Jar-hidda was in the seat, probably looking at a map.

Strangely relieved, she stepped out into the cockpit, skin turning red as she began, "Jar-hi—."

Dead silence followed. Her voice caught in her throat as she stared wide-eyed at the visage of another yautja on the large holographic screen, sitting in a seat all his own. Large fierce eyes were looking back at her, and the lower mandibles of the face slowly parted revealing the inner mouth which was open. The face was adorned with many spikes on his brow and crest, and he had far more tusks than Jar-hidda did. Somehow he looked older than Jar-hidda as well.

"What is that?" he asked.

The aforementioned yautja whipped around in his swivel-seat and stared directly at Hannah, then rattled, nervous. His already deep voice dropped several octaves into barely discernable as he slowly turned back to the yautja on the screen. It reminded Hannah of when a teenage boy gets caught with a pet bunny, or having a tea-party with his sister, dropping his voice to sound more 'manly' and blow off whatever situation they got caught in.

Hannah would have smiled if she wasn't aware of just how _dire_ this situation was.

"She's my… human," Jar-hidda responded, Hannah having to really pay attention to try to catch his words. She blinked her wide eyes once, swallowed, and stepped back slowly towards the hallway to remove herself from the situation.

"Stop," the other yautja ordered and Hannah paused. He clicked in intrigue and then also ordered, "come closer."

Hannah hesitated then stepped forward at an emphasizing click like saying 'now!'

She moved closer, but only until she as a few feet behind Jar-hidda's seat.

"It understands," said the yautja, turning to focus Jar-hidda again, who was tense and frustrated.

"Yes," he affirmed, tapping his tusks together, "I've… been teaching her…."

Jar-hidda had tried very hard to not let something like this happen, he had told her that others of his kind would likely kill her on the spot in outrage. It was better if they never knew she was there.

This was one hell of a cat out of a bag, one that could cost her her life.

The other yautja scrutinized her again, leaning forward in his seat as if getting a closer look. After a moment of clicking in contemplation the yautja sat back in his seat, "I want to see it."

Jar-hidda's hand went from nervously toying with one of his dreads to slamming down on the arm of his chair, "what!?"

The yautja clicked in amusement, laughing in the yautja way, a sort of broken chirping noise, "yes, rendezvous with my ship as soon as you can, I want to see this pet of the great Jar-hidda."

The green alien clicked in frustration, fingers curling around the arms of his seat so tightly she was afraid they were going to break.

"As you wish," Jar-hidda finally said, pounding one arm to his chest and bowing his head. The holographic image disappeared, leaving the cockpit in its normal red lighting. The silence was immediately uncomfortable and Hannah swallowed hard, looking from where the other yautja had been to the back of Jar-hidda's seat where she could hear an angry rattle.

"What does 'rendezvous' mean?" she asked quietly, afraid of what the other yautja wanted with her from what she could understand of the conversation.

The chair swiveled abruptly, enough that she could see a single angry yellow eye in the dark socket from beneath the furrowed brow. He was _pissed_. He didn't answer, instead he stood up abruptly. Just as he reached for her she dodged out of the way and ran. She wasn't sure why, there was really nowhere for her to run to or hide. She heard the yautja thunder behind her, then go dead silent, putting the stealth on. She ran back into the room, whipping in and looking for something to defend herself. Too slow. She was grabbed from behind and turned around as easily as a top.

"Why'd you do that!?" he roared and she coughed at the scent of his breath.

"I'm sorry," she retorted angrily, trying to squirm hopelessly out of his iron grip, "I didn't know!"

Jar-hidda rattled angrily again then forcefully pushed her away. She caught her balance and looked up at the alien as he began pacing like a caged tiger. She stood straight and watched him, knowing that he was upset because it was a dangerous situation. Finally after a moment he stopped, shoulders heaving and turned to look over at her. He growled very low in his throat.

"You are going to learn etiquette, starting now."

Hannah blinked, she didn't like the sound of it, even if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"'Etiquette?'"


	6. Salutations

"Remember," growled Jar-hidda, "if I don't bow, just bow, if I bow, you kneel, if I kneel—."

"_I prostrate myself on the ground_."

Jar-hidda clicked. It was difficult if it was affirmation or just annoyance. He was calm now, fully composed and ready. The last few days he had been a drill instructor, a bundle of nerves ready to snap at any wrong moves.

And wrong moves there were. Jar-hidda had suddenly taken her on a crash course of how she should approach and treat other yautja, something he had hoped would never need to happen; if only she hadn't screwed up. The language barrier didn't help anything, and things would often quickly deteriorate when she misunderstood something he said, did something wrong, and didn't even understand the clarification when she asked for it. It often devolved into a screaming argument between the two in their respective native languages.

Which was something Jar-hidda made _sure_ she understood was something she didn't do to any other yautja. For one, yelling at another yautja would get her head torn from her shoulders, for two, she was to speak in as much of the yautja language as she could, absolutely no English, and lower the tone of her voice if she could. She was to keep her head down and be obedient if she wanted to live.

There were a million of other things that he managed to stuff into her head in the small amount of time. Proper gestures and postures in front of different ranking yautja, how to tell different ranking yautja apart, how to respond to gestures in return, that shaking a fellow's shoulder was different than shoving it, body language, which was something she had already sort-of picked up, and other things that would keep her alive.

One thing he made absolutely clear: as far as his people were concerned, she was still prey and if she made herself seem like a good 'catch,' they'd go for it. She was otherwise the lowest of the low, and no one would care if someone took a pot-shot at her. The more inconspicuous she was, the better. For five days they drilled, and she often went to bed sore as frustration turned into sparring in the middle of the room or kitchen, beginning with her doing something wrong, him smacking her hand shoulder or the back of her head, her punching him in retaliation, and then fighting. Jar-hidda was being harsh, showing to her what others would do to her for the smallest slight.

But Jar-hidda surprised her, just as they were coming up to the ship, an atoll it was called, that was at least one-hundred times the size of Jar-hidda's ship.

He was dressed in his mesh, his most impressive armor, his cactus-spiked mask, armed, decorated with skulls, and a large skull tucked under his arm. It was all for show, to look impressive. Appearance was everything, if you appeared strong, moved well, spoke correctly, you weren't messed with.

Hannah, on the other hand, was just in her two kilts, sandals and the multi-ringed necklace that protected her throat. The ship had landed, and they were waiting, Jar-hidda explained, for some sort of procession to form up ranks to properly greet them. No, not them, him.

But as they stood there waiting, Jar-hidda nudged her shoulder gently, which was more of a surprise than if he had smacked her, which she kind of expected lately. She hastily tried to correct something about her posture, unsure of what he wanted, then saw him extending something to her. In his hand was a grey metal thing that looked like the mouthpiece to a mask like his.

She wasn't sure what to do with it at first, but when he clicked in emphasis she reached over and took it, turning it over in her hands and looking at the complex alien circuitry and two circular filters on either side of the rectangular shape. It _was_ the mouthpiece to a mask.

"Wear it," he said simply and she looked over to where he was standing beside and slightly in front of her. She put the rectangular shape over her mouth, setting the ends of the jaw-shaped sides just under her ears. With the sound of something compressing, the mask seemed to just conform and fit tightly to her face, but not uncomfortably. It stayed put even when she took her hand away from it. She blinked as cool air began to filter in to the space of the mask, and it smelled like oxygen.

Jar-hidda gave a curt nod, "the air in the atoll will be my air, yautja air, it's not good for you to breathe it."

"When did you have the time?" she asked and Jar-hidda looked from the door to her again. He didn't answer and she shifted, taking her place behind him like a good pet. She took a breath and calmed herself, watching the door as it clanked and then slid open. Her breath was then stolen.

Rows upon rows of yautja, spears in hand, standing in perfect formation lined either side of the extending ramp. The area was huge, it would be able to hold fifty of Jar-hidda's ships and a herd of elephants with room to spare, and it was filled with aliens, leaving only a long path from the ship to where a single yautja stood, a cape covering half his body, armored and armed, just like Jar-hidda.

When the ramp touched down, spears lifted and rapped twice against the metal floor, all in unison. Hannah felt an old worry creep up, staring at just how militant it all was. It was apparently what Jar-hidda was waiting for and stepped forward. Hannah followed after, having to take two strides for every one of his, feeling like a Chihuahua. She tried not to wonder if any eyes, all of those possibly hundreds of eyes, were on her as she followed along.

It felt both like forever, and too soon, that they reached the end of the path, where the one yautja stood, Jar-hidda stopped and knelt. Hannah assumed a bowing position like she had seen in Asian cultures, sitting on her heels, both knees on the ground and her forehead touching the floor. It was the one Jar-hidda had approved of when they were practicing.

Hannah wished it was silent, but there were noises, rumblings, murmurings. It was like being the new kid in high-school all over again. But she kept her face planted to the floor, studied the grain of the metal, kept her breath even. She wasn't scared, not really, though she probably should have been with how many known murderers there were in the room, and all the things Jar-hidda told her they would use as an excuse to kill her. She was more nervous about messing up and _looking bad_ and therefore making Jar-hidda look bad as well.

After-all, appearance was everything, and Jar-hidda needed to keep up the tough-guy appearance especially being clanless. Without it, there was no trade.

She became aware of a dull ache rising in her legs. The yautja in the cape was silent for a long while. Jar-hidda hadn't even been given leave to rise beside her, bent to one knee with a fist to his chest, head bowed. It was difficult to tell what he was feeling or thinking with that mask on, and his tusks still. She startled when the apparent leader tapped his staff and her gaze snapped away from Jar-hidda nad back to the floor with a small gasp.

"Welcome, legendary Jar-hidda," began the elder, losing Hannah with the word 'legendary,' and continuing on with some ceremonial spiel that flew mostly over Hannah's head. She caught words like 'gods bless' and 'good hunting,' but most of it was deep-throated babble to her. She'd ask for the translation later. This ceremony seemed to go on forever, and she was startled by another unified spear-thump to the ground, and Jar-hidda finally stood.

Hannah took that as her cue and stood up also. She didn't even really think as she moved to the side and her hand flew up from her hip to the warm metal shaft of the extended spear. Only a few seconds after the attack did she blink and realize what position she was in. The leader had kicked up and jabbed his spear towards her throat, the spear that she was now parallel with, her hand gripping tightly the end. She looked slowly down the shaft to the leader, whose expressionless mask told her nothing, and she slowly released the spear, and went back to kneeling, sure that the attack had been a reprimand for something she had done wrong.

The leader clicked in approval, and looked to Jar-hidda again, who had not moved an inch to defend his pet from the attack.

"Thank you, Chul-yaun, for inviting me, clanless and low-ranking as I am, onto your most esteemed vessel."

The leader gave a curt nod to the much younger yautja then turned his attention once again to the woman on the ground for just a moment. Then he gave a clicked command to Jar-hidda, who tapped Hannah with the shaft of his glaive. She stood and followed after Jar-hidda as he followed after Chul-yaun.

"You mission was successful then."

"As I said in our discussion on my ship," Jar-hidda acknowledged.

"Then Halkrath-th'syra's honor is restored, and he may hunt eternally and rest in the Nuo'ethy at Cetanu's side."

That was a lot of words that Hannah didn't know.

Jar-hidda only gave a clicking response, one she hadn't heard before and would have to ask about later. She continued following behind, watching as Chul-yaun led them away from the dock and into the ship. Hannah held her breath for just a second, and then was immediately disappointed to find that it was exactly like Jar-hidda's ship, only larger. They were immediately in a hallway, however this one large enough that ten yautja could stand shoulder-to shoulder across, rather than the one and a half-yautja space of Jar-hidda's ship. The leader turned right and continued walking, and talking.

"Your pet moves well," complimented the leader and Hannah tightened her fingers for a moment. It was one thing to know her position, it was another to hear it said so blatantly and casually by a yautja she didn't know.

_Don't make ripples, don't cause waves_ she repeated to herself in her head like a mantra.

"I've been training her," Jar-hidda said with some hesitation, "but she came to me with a great deal of skill already."

"Not to hunt with I hope," growled the leader warningly and Jar-hidda was quick to answer.

"No, not like that. She was a hunter herself on Jh'uda-tjauke, who hated her own kind, and was warrior friends with a blooded human under your mark."

The leader's step hesitated for a fragment of a second, barely noticeable, but Hannah saw. It was hard not to, keeping her head down this much meant she was looking at the spiked heels of the two yautja in front of her.

"Yes I know the one," he said, "one of the youngbloods who had died honorably on his Chiva, Mahnde was his youth name, as he did not get the chance to choose his name after his blooding, marked it in his last moments. I'm uncertain what he thought gave him the right to do so, but I trusted his judgment and left it alive with a proper weapon. It was a great help in preventing the entire planet from becoming seeded. Killed a queen through its own cleverness. What has this one done?"

Jar-hidda glanced back Hannah, who's eyes flashed up to him for a moment, watching him turn back around, "rescued me from dishonor," the leader gave a harsh click that Hannah didn't understand, "I will explain later."

Hannah imagined the leader was giving Jar-hidda a stern look behind his emotionless mask, which was very smooth, of grey metal instead of red like Jar-hidda's and had a scratch on the brow of it that Hannah recognized from the cheek of Alexa Woods.

Before she could think of what kind of small universe this was, the leader turned to his left and took them through an opening. Hannah blinked wide eyes and stopped dead in her tracks despite herself. She took back what she thought about this ship being anything like Jar-hidda's.

She heard the yautja' laughter coming from the leader who stopped just a step or two after Jar-hidda had and looked back at the small alien's expression.

"Welcome to my ship human, the jag'd'ja atoll, Resh'skama."


	7. A Strange People

It was huge, this room alone, and it couldn't have been any more than a sixteenth of the large ship, _maybe_. Yautja were everywhere within it, but most of them weren't standing up, they were lounging, sitting and talking to other yautja. Apparently not everyone on the ship had come to greet Jar-hidda. These yautja were just dressed in their kilts, a few who looked younger than them running around in just their loincloths. The walls around the room were carved with images, and not all of them about hunts, some was just of a specific yautja or other mandibled animal, possibly from their homeworld. But what more it was _decorated _in a way, with things sort of like curtains, green in color but that was probably an accident, that trailed down from the ceiling to just above the floor. That was it though, but it was _something. _This was apparently some place of relaxation.

Odd, she didn't think yautja knew how to relax.

Something caught her eye though, something that switched her feeling of awe to confused curiosity. There were things in the room, bipedal things that were yautja, and they were looking at her. She stared at them for a moment, trying to rationalize, looking at one that was grey-skinned, and had a head like an emaciated horse—.

"Human."

"Hannah."

Hannah turned her gaze to the two yautja, blinking back into focus. She became aware that some of the yautja in the huge space had pointed at Jar-hidda and were now looking with earnest, some leaning over to get a better angle. She kept hearing his name, and that same unknown word over and over again. However, once the two saw that they had her attention again they turned, almost simultaneously and began walking again. Hannah followed, glancing back once.

It seemed they were going on a sort of tour, the path taking them through the engine room, the barracks, the bathroom, the kitchen, the training room and a large pit where all the loin-clothed yautja were, these ones even more excited to see Jar-hidda than the other ones.

She was beginning to understand. Jar-hidda was like some kind of celebrity.

But while they were walking around, the leader had absolutely nothing to say about the ship. Instead the talk was about hunting and something to do with the younger yautja, a lot of numbers were being thrown out, and sizes. She pieced together what she thought the conversation was about, as Jar-hidda in turn also began to boast about recent hunts against dangerous prey, even holding up the skull to show as he spoke of one particular hunt.

Hannah remembered that one. It was her second, or maybe third, actual hunting trip with Jar-hidda, after he was done beating her up. He was teaching her the code of honor that all yautja hunted by; The Path. It was one that she didn't participate in, but rather Jar-hidda had stuck her in a tree where she could watch the whole thing transpire on the Savannah-like planet. The monster in question moved like a lion, a solitary hunter just like Jar-hidda, and the alien went after it with only his glaive, and when that was knocked out of his hands, his wristblades. But what had shaken her the most was that the monster had had a wounded leg, was limping slightly, and when Jar-hidda saw this, he had faced the monster, and taken his dagger to his own arm to lessen its usefulness.

She learned the yautja equivalent of a fair fight, to try to be on as equal ground with the prey as possible. It was important, the harder the hunt, the greater the glory at its completion, and glory was everything.

"How do you say the human's name again?"

"'Hannah.'"

"Han'ah."

Hannah looked up expectantly, glancing at Jar-hidda.

"You said you were teaching it, does it speak?"

"Yes, she's a quick learner," hopefully at some point in time the other yautja would understand the feminine pronoun Jar-hidda kept using meant that she was not an _it_.

"Say something Han'ah."

Hannah blinked, looked at Jar-hidda before looking back to Chul-yaun.

"Honored Chul-yaun," she began as was appropriate and bowed her head, keeping her hands poised for snapping, hoping she did it right, "what are the… people… the not-yautja in the large room?"

The leader, who had leaned down a bit to Hannah's level stood abruptly and looked at Jar-hidda who rattled.

"How long have you had it?"

"Not even a fraction of a season," he answered, "I've warned time and again that I've witnessed the speed that the humans advance at, that which had taken us thousands of seasons to develop takes them only one or two. They will be leaving their planet for farther travel within the century, make no mistake," Jar-hidda lifted his hand, undid the tubes and removed his mask, attaching it to his belt. He rattled in relief, no doubt enjoying being in a place where he could breathe normally without his mask, rather than catering to his much more fragile pet. She'd have to show him appreciation for that later.

Regardless, she understood that her question wasn't going to be answered. She furrowed her brow but didn't protest lowering her head again. Chul-yaun also removed his mask, and Hannah was able to see much more clearly their host. He definitely seemed aged, but she didn't want to assume. His dreadlocks were mottled grey, his skin was creamy colored and was almost covered in long quills. He had four mandibles, and the tusks on them were all carved. Unlike Jar-hidda, his upper jaw in his inner mouth had only four teeth instead of six, and he had amber-colored eyes.

"The ship is open as you please," the leader said, and Jar-hidda bowed, so Hannah kneeled. The leader laughed and walked away from Jar-hidda respectfully. Hannah watched him turn with a whirl of his red cape. She then looked slowly to Jar-hidda who took a heavy breath and glanced down at her.

"That was a lot of… talking I didn't understand."

"I know, start where you want," he said and they began walking.

"The ship's name."

"Resh'kama is an animal from our homeworld, a… water animal that swims and feeds off of anything smaller than it. Not much is bigger than it is. It has many teeth."

"It is a big ship."

Jar-hidda nodded and she noticed they were retracing their steps, but not going to the cockpit.

"This kind of Atoll is run by an entire clan who is almost entirely space-faring, hardly ever touching ground except to hunt."

"Space-faring?"

"Wandering, moving around all the time. But this kind of ship is the one where many clans will gather for a great hunt. So it must be large enough to house them. Chul-yaun's clan runs the ship."

"What is 'legendary?'"

Jar-hidda laughed his human laugh and shook his head, "nothing."

"The other yautja is much older."

"Yes, he is an elder, the brother of my friend, the one I came to _Earth_ for."

"Is _Earth_ Jhu'da-tjauke?"

"Yes, that is what we call it," Jar-hidda paused to bow to some yautja who walked past, and Hannah knelt, but they passed quickly enough, with acknowledging nods, that her knee had barely touched the ground before she stood back up.

"What is 'tjauke?'"

"Hard, strong dirt."

Hannah nodded. Water-rock, that's what they called Earth. She wondered how much water his planet had if they thought that describing Earth as a water planet was accurate.

The found themselves back in the large room and Hannah immediately pointed at the decorative curtains, "why don't you have those?"

Jar-hidda looked over and shook his head, flinging his dread-locks around, "I don't like them, they have no point."

"I like them, they're pretty."

Jar-hidda laughed. The other yautja were motioning, pointing and murmuring again. Jar-hidda didn't seem to pay them much mind, though he kept his shoulders squared and chest puffed impressively. It had to be a pain to walk around like that.

Hannah looked around and shifted her weight as she noticed they were almost being surrounded.

"Why did Chul-yaun attack me?"

"A test."

Hannah looked to Jar-hidda confused, "he wasn't upset?"

"No, I think he's interested, after all, one of your kind is an accepted member of his clan, maybe he wants to learn more before going to retrieve her," Hannah glanced again as two of the yautja came boldly forward. Jar-hidda did not bow to them, they bowed to him, Hannah in turn bowed when their salutation was done and the look they gave her, like she was some pile of something unsavory made her angry. But she calmed herself. Yautja didn't have many facial expressions, in fact she had only really seen Jar-hidda express about three or so. Emotion was displayed through sound mostly, with the clicking.

"Great Jar-hidda," interjected one, a greyer colored yautja than his companion who was creamy with dark spots. Both were in just loincloths, "we wish to hear the tale of your trophy," he looked pointedly at the skull under Jar-hidda's arm.

There was a roar and the young yautja suddenly retreated a few steps. An older yautja, maybe Jar-hidda's age stormed over, dressed in just a kilt and growled at them.

"Do not bother the great Jar-hidda with your idle mewlings and your stink. Know your place! Kneel before your better!"

The elder yautja hit one of the younger yautja so hard he started bleeding, the lining of his mouth cut by his tusk. Though the blow knocked him back a few steps and caused Hannah to flinch, he didn't seem entirely wounded by it, and dropped to his knee immediately along with his companion. Jar-hidda didn't react, and around them, only a few yautja, other younger ones, were looking over curiously watching what was going on.

Hannah was suddenly grateful that Jar-hidda hadn't been _that_ rough on her during her crash course. Suddenly his hard back-hands seemed like light taps.

"We apologize with great shame, great Jar-hidda, for our disrespect," the older yautja huffed, gave a curt nod to Jar-hidda as if to say 'you're welcome,' and then stalked away, turning his back to the two young yautja. Hannah blinked, confused about how quickly the whole thing had transpired. Jar-hidda gave a click that Hannah had become familiar with and the two younger ones rose, the wounded one wiping away his blood on the back of his hand like it was nothing.

"I will gladly tell you the tale," Jar-hidda said and the two took him back to their circle of other young yautja, who eagerly awaited them. He sat down and put the skull in the middle. The young ones oogled and pointed but didn't touch, Hannah had learned recently that one _never_ touches another's trophy without permission.

Jar-hidda began the tale, but this time, there was much more to it than what he had told to Chul-yaun. This was a campfire story, and Jar-hidda told it with flair.

"When we touched down upon the earth, I took my human out to show her the hunt and the Path," he began, and all the youngers quieted, "I hid her away in a tree where she could see but not be seen," he turned and touched his hand to the top of Hannah's head, brushing it down so that her long dark hair was pulled in front of her face. There was chirping laughter as she sat there like cousin it, turning to glare at Jar-hidda before putting her hair back in place.

"I began the hunt, armed only with my glaive and wristblades to match the pimchuk in battle. I tracked it across the hard earth," he bent, swathing his hand across the ground, "I could hear a fight, two pimchuk, not far away. I hid in the grass," Jar-hidda bent low and quieted, "there were two males, fighting for the land. I waited until one retreated in defeat. The stronger one remained, my prey," Jar-hidda spread his arms, showing the dominance of the reptilian monster, "but, he was wounded, a good bite to his leg from his rival, and he was limping," Jar-hidda gestured and held his arm, like it was wounded again.

Hannah jumped slightly at a rasping noise, as engrossed in this retelling of the hunt she had witnessed as the other yautja. She looked up and saw the grey horse-faced creature standing nearby. It had a pitcher in its three-fingered hands, of which it had four, and was making a hissing, chattering noise, but showed what it was meaning to say by lowering and offering the pitcher towards Jar-hidda.

Jar-hidda held a hand out as several of the yautja stood in outrage, possibly at the story being interrupted and clicked, holding out his hand. One of the smaller hands removed a sort of vase-like cup from a ring around its thin hips and poured a steaming red liquid into it before handing it to Jar-hidda. He clicked dismissively and it hurried away, pausing only for a second to glance at Hannah though six small all-black eyes, triangular-shaped claws tapping against the metal ground.

Hannah watched the creature go before turning to Jar-hidda, tapping his arm and repeating the question she had posed to Chul-yaun, "what are the not-yautja?"

She didn't get an answer immediately, as Jar-hidda was too busy roaring at a young yautja suddenly grabbing a fist-full of Hannah's hair screaming, "let Jar-hidda tell the story!" and completely dragging her out of her sitting position. Hannah grabbed at the hand in her hair before flipping herself around and punching the youngster, who was only slightly taller than her, right in the inner mouth, just as he was about to let go, terribly frightened at the sudden wrath of the green and purple yautja bearing down on him.

He howled in pain, holding his face and kicking. Hannah retracted her bloodied hand and scooted back to her seat by Jar-hidda's heels, waiting for another attack from one of the others but they instead moved away from their fellow who was grabbed by the neck and sat back up so that Jar-hidda could properly roar in his face.

"Do not hurt _my_ human!" The younger yautja, who was now missing a tooth, possibly having swallowed it on accident, tapped compliance with his tusks and was dropped. He scrambled away backwards to a different location across from Jar-hidda rather than beside him and sat down, checking over his wounds. Hannah also eased back into a cross-legged position, concluded that the wounds on her knuckles were mere scratched and began licking them clean. Jar-hidda plopped back down like a mountain, folding his legs and huffing, visibly calming, if only slightly, before turning to Hannah.

"That is an eta, Hannah, they are conquered races, unworthy prey, who work for the yautja."

Hannah looked at him, in his face, wondering what he meant and piecing it together. After a moment she was able to gather together between what she saw and what she heard to understand that eta meant 'slave.'

With perhaps more calm than she should have felt she asked, "is that what I am?"

Jar-hidda was silent, staring at her, without even clicking to give away his thoughts. Before he could answer there was a sudden commotion, a clamor rose through the room. Jar-hidda turned to see what was going on, and Hannah saw that many yautja, old or young, was suddenly parting and dropping to their knees. Jar-hidda stood, only to face the appropriate direction and knelt, bowing low. Hannah immediately prostrated herself, unsure of what was going on, but seeing the clawed feet of an orange-ish yautja stop before them.

She dared look up and marveled at the sheer _size_ of the yautja, its long dreads intricately adorned with gold clasps and chains, the lower-left tusk carved with a filigree design, wearing a sort of kilt that was made of an almost silken cloth with a long trailing front and back. It was covered in jewelry, not just the typical rings around its neck but chains spilling down its front and dangling from its neck. It had no top, and Hannah could see clearly that this yautja, orange and crème-colored with dark-blue stripes was _female_.

Hannah accidentally met the female's yellow eyes and planted her face to the ground again. She didn't understand what was going on, but heard Jar-hidda's name, and that 'great' word she didn't understand, from the massive yautja and he lifted his head.

"My room," said the female definitively with exaggerated clicks, "now."

Jar-hidda stood without question and Hannah shifted uncomfortably. The female turned her back to Jar-hidda, a sign that he did not retaliate to, and began walking away. Hannah stood abruptly, bewildered as Jar-hidda began moving forward without hesitation, leaving Hannah behind confused and concerned.


End file.
